I Dare You To Give This a Title
by Libby16
Summary: What had begun as a World Meeting soon transpired into a quick shindig at America's house, and, after a few too many drinks, had turned into possibly the worst decision of the Nation's lives. Far surpassing the questionability of any war or atrocity, they had decided upon none other than Truth or Dare to pass the time. Hilarity ensues!


**Warning: You might want to read this in a place you call a safe haven where you are free to express emotions in solitude. Otherwise you may get some serious judgmental stares. Crack ahead!**

**Pairings: GerIta, GiriPan, PoLiet, Spamano, implied USUK, attempted FrUK, implied SuFin, implied SwissAus. Possibly others that I forgot to mention.**

* * *

No one was entirely sure how they came about this situation – in all honesty it was probably better not to ask.

What had begun as a World Meeting soon transpired into a quick shindig at America's house, and, after a few too many drinks, had turned into possibly the worst decision of the Nation's lives. Far surpassing the questionability of any war or atrocity, they had decided upon none other than Truth or Dare to pass the time.

Why anyone had thought this was a smart idea was beyond Germany as he sat rigidly on one of America's couches, Italy curled into his side.

Prussia, despite being disjointed as a nation, decided to show up because no way in _hell _was he missing out on this!

While most nations either looked slightly uncomfortable or bored at the lack of current action, America was practically bouncing in his seat. The gleam of a fat kid presented with an entire cake was present in his eyes. "Let's get this show on the road!" He demanded, elation radiating off him.

England, placed on his left, rolled his eyes at the childishness shown. "Calm down you bloody git."

Ignoring England's request entirely he sprang into action. Eyeing the room for his target, he spotted the perfect victim. "Yo Japan! Truth or dare?"

Japan managed to keep his composure at being targeted; internally he knew that whatever misfortune awaited him would possibly scar him for the rest of his life. "I suppose…truth," he said softly.

America narrowed his eyes slyly, a devious smirk growing on his face. "Is it true you fucked Greece?"

All eyes fleeted to the blushing Asian. Japan's eyes at first widened in shock, he then began to splutter a plethora of incomprehensible phrases. All the while France released a few 'hon hon hon's' and Prussia's grin grew to shit-eating size. "Erm..I…"

"Remember dude, you gotta tell the _truth_!" America reminded, sensing Japan's honesty wavering.

The fact that Greece was ignorantly snoozing away on Japan's shoulder wasn't helping the situation. "I…yes," he assented softly, casting his gaze downward.

The room broke loose in obscene comments and congratulations. A high pitched squeal could be heard from the couch Hungary was placed on. Prussia couldn't have been enjoying himself more.

"Alright Japan, congrats on getting laid, but now it's your turn to ask someone," instructed America, looking rather smug.

A furious blush inflamed Japan's cheeks and it was a moment before he could find his voice. His eyes found solace in a comrade. "Miss Hungary, would you like a truth or a dare?"

She seemed a bit shocked at being addressed, but then smoothly weighed her options. Japan knew some very personal things about her that would cause hell to break loose if the other nations found out, but a dare could possibly scar her and cause other people even further trauma. She sighed and chose the lesser of two evils. "Dare."

Japan pondered this a moment. He hadn't entirely thought too much ahead as to what the actual dare would be. "You must…loan me your _collection_ of a certain American and British man for a week."

Everyone glanced around in confusion, oblivious, especially America and England.

Hungary narrowed her eyes dangerously. Seemingly out of nowhere a skillet (not just any skillet mind you, the frypan ultima model 2500. Hungary takes her frying pans seriously) appeared in her hands. "You have three seconds to change that dare," she said threateningly, a dark aura rolling off her in waves.

The only thing she treasured more than Austria and frying pans was her extensive collection of yaoi. One did not simply threaten the livelihood of a yaoi fangirl – especially her OTP. While she treasured a disturbing amount of pairings, Japan threatening to take her USUK was simply crossing the line! And to think, she had actually shipped GiriPan!

Japan, while craving her collection to indulge in his fantasies, valued his health and physical state far more than he did his favorite hobby. He would just have to continue through his collection of Poland and Lithuania. "I dare you not to hurt me!" He cried, reaching a decibel louder than anyone had ever thought possible for the Asian man to reach.

Hungary smiled – her yaoi was safe. She lowered her frypan and it disappeared from eyesight.

All was at peace.

Well, for a few seconds anyway.

"What the bloody hell was that about?!" Demanded England.

Hungary smiled softly and said, "Oh it's nothing!"

"Then why was I involved? Somebody better give me some damn answers!" England had his arms folded across his chest. Frustration flushed his cheeks.

Still smiling, the frying pan appeared on its own once more. "It's _nothing_, England," she insisted, sickeningly sweet.

Vowing to find out later, he acquiesced and slunk into the sofa.

"Prussia," she addressed the albino, "truth or dare?"

His eyes slanted slyly. Now the party could actually start! Naturally it would only be his awesomeness to get the pace flowing. "Truth is for pussies, give me the damn dare!"

No one seemed to notice the brief wink she sent in Austria's direction. "I dare you to take me into the nearest closet and allow me to do whatever I want to you for the next seven minutes."

Germany pinched the bridge of his nose as Romano muttered something about 'Potato Bastard Number two'. Prussia's eyes widened comically before lowering into an expression of victory. "Hell yes!" And he bolted out of his seat, gripping Hungary's wrist in excitement.

"_Mon cher! _Make sure you are protected in the heated throws of _le amour_!" France paused the excited albino. Prussia felt something hit the back of his head before a soft _thump_ hit the floor. He glanced down to see the familiar gleam of a package. A condom package. Size: extra-small.

France wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as America nearly fell off his chair laughing. "Yeah dude, better wrap that whopper! Don't want Dairy Queen to get her blizzard stuffed with even more ice cream!"

The room deadpanned – save for America's raucous laughter. Prussia, forgetting his embarrassment of being tossed an extra-small condom, face-palmed. "That was the most un-awesome thing I've ever heard! And I've had to sit through one of Austria's concerts!" The aristocrat looked ready to pounce. "Oh don't get your balls in a twist, prissy pants!"

Before further violence could ensue, Hungary decided to intervene. "Thank you France, it is the perfect size!" France wigged his eyebrows once more as the room – save for an oblivious Italy – erupted in laughter. Before the Prussian could retaliate, Hungary grabbed the foil package off the ground, caught his wrist in a vice-like grip, and dragged him down to the broom closet in the hallway.

Austria meanwhile sat on the couch and stewed over his concerts being insulted.

"Dude, that was awesome!" America exclaimed as he nearly doubled over in laughter.

France sat with a smirk on his face, glancing around the room for a possible suitor to take home with him. It simply wouldn't be fair if he were to miss out on the thrills of _le amour_!

"Yes, while that was rather amusing there's no one to ask someone else a truth or dare, and I don't want to sit here for the next seven minutes while they do God knows what in that closet!" England said sourly. It was obvious to France that he hadn't gotten off in a while. Perhaps he could take care of that…

"As the hero I volunteer to save the day! I will sacrifice my precious oxygen to ask another truth or dare!" America stood up from his chair, puffing his chest in a manly pose.

England pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Spain, truth or dare?!" America asked excitedly. Spain smiled in his usual way and chose a dare without hesitation. "I dare you to…pull Romano's curl! I've always wanted to know what that thing does!"

Deadbeat silence. For the first time Italy Veneziano actually bore an expression other than bliss; for a moment he looked concerned for his brother's wellbeing.

Cue the expected curses. "WHAT THE FUCK YOU FUCKING FUCKFACE BURGER BASTARD?!"

"I'm serious! That thing is just weird. It's gotta do _something_!" America justified.

France's eyes widened in elation. "Pull the curl! Pull the curl Antonio!" He demanded in glee. He might as well have been told he won a million dollars with the expression he wore.

Germany, despite his longtime feud with Romano, actually felt sorry for the Italian. Learning long ago what the curl did to the Italian brothers, he almost felt pity that Romano had to be exploited in such a public way. Almost.

"_Lo siento mi tomatito! _It is a dare, I must do it!" Spain apologized (with a not so sorry expression on his face), and leaned in.

"I WILL CASTRATE YOU IF YOU TOUCH THAT CURL! SPAIN!" Romano scrambled to get away from the advancing Spaniard. It had become a game of predator and prey. Well, what else was one to expect when one had a strand of hair as an erogenous zone?

"Just come here and let me touch it," Spain said softly and –

A loud scream erupted from the closet.

Romano breathed a sigh of relief at the distraction.

"Wow they must like, totally be going at it in there!" Poland spoke for the first time. He was more than content to stay silent, sitting in Lithuania's lap and nuzzled into his chest.

A gleam caught in France's eyes. The sounds of sweet, yet violent lovemaking always had him hold true to his country's stereotypes. He crossed his legs in attempt to hide the rather obvious tent beginning to pitch.

"Dude, was like, Hungary always that loud, like, in bed?" Poland brazenly asked Austria without the slightest hint of shame.

"Actually," the aristocrat said smoothly, "I do believe that was Prussia."

Deadpan silence proceeded by another roar of laughter, save for Germany. That was his _bruder _after all, or should he more appropriately be named _schwester_?

"Dude totally screams like a girl! Hahahah that's badass!" America managed between gut wrenching laughter.

Apparently this fact just aroused France even more.

"Oi, does the fact that that's your ex-wife in there not bother you at all?" England addressed Austria.

"Oh, believe me," Austria said, "I have no qualms with what's transpiring."

Apparently neither did France.

Cue another blood curdling scream followed by a squeal of laughter.

Apparently France _really _had no qualms with what was transpiring. He needed a distraction, and fast. "Excuse me, _monsieurs_, but I do believe there was a dare in the midst of us!"

"Oh yeah dude, totally forgot! Spain pull that curl!"

"YOU FUCKING FROG FACE BASTARD!" Wailed Romano, continuing to retreat.

Japan had secretly whipped out a camera, filming everything for later use (Hungary would hit him ruthlessly with the frying pan if he didn't.)

"Ve~ I feel bad for Fratello," said Italy softly. Germany grunted – _almost _in agreement.

"_Tomatito_! Why are you crawling away from me? You always let me touch your curl!" Spain whined obliviously.

"At home! Not in front of all the BASTARDS! TOMATO BASTARD I'LL-" But it was too late, Spain had the curl locked in between two fingers.

Romano felt his knees buckle and give out, falling forward into Spain's arms. A low mewl threatened to pass his lips, but he bit back with unprecedented retaliation. His cheeks flushed like his precious tomatoes. "C-chigi…b-bastard," he muttered halfheartedly. He was in no state to be bitter.

Spain soon forgot where they were and unhesitatingly began to run a finger back and forth over the curl as he did in the solitude of his own home. The moan Romano had tried so hard to suppress escaped his lips and he balled his fist into the Spaniard's chest. In seemingly no time, the sardonic Italian had become, in no short terms, an utter hot mess. "S-Spain!" He gasped.

No one missed the tent beginning to form in Romano's vital regions. Veneziano buried his face into Germany's chest embarrassedly. Absentmindedly Germany began to stroke his head soothingly, paying extra attention to avoid the curl. God knew that Veneziano didn't have the same restraint Romano did. Had the situation been reversed, things would have been _much _different.

Remembering where they were and the dare he had to carry through, Spain tore his gaze from the adorable flushed face and _yanked_. Romano _screamed_.

"CHIGI!"

Without the ability to form a coherent thought, Romano feverishly locked his mouth with Spain's. All dignity had been cast aside in the haze of lust.

Romano's pants were visibly tight – being stretched to their limit. In need of relief, he wrapped his legs around Spain's waist and ground his hips feverishly.

Spain was more than happy to help his little Romano, but a loud thump from the supply closet brought him to his senses. Pulling away from Romano's mouth he felt his heated face flush further with chagrin. The awkward silence in the air was nearly palpable. "Roma – Roma stop," Spain insisted urgently. The Italian ignored him entirely and continued to grind his hips into Spain.

Japan had a visible stream of blood trickling from his nose, but he found he couldn't tear his gaze away from the scene to clean himself up. Greece would later find a small stain on his shirt – _that _would be an interesting conversation. But the activities that led to is a tale for another story.

France unabashedly sported an erection. Sex was practically happening before his eyes – how did one not expect the Frenchman to grow aroused!?

"Roma," Spain groaned, using every bit of will power he contained not to throw the Italian on the ground and take him then and there.

"Dude, I got a room upstairs. Three doors on the right. Make a mess and you're cleaning it up!" America said as if he were discussing the weather.

"Gracias!" The Spaniard said gratefully as he carried Romano up the stairs, the sound of a door slamming behind them.

"Get some!" America called behind them.

England rolled his eyes. Classy. Very classy.

"Italy, it's alright to come out now," coaxed Germany. Italy slowly began to lift his head from Germany's side. He glanced around warily before snuggling into a comfortable position against the Aryan – his signature expression of bliss returned.

"Well that's all fine and dandy, but we need someone to-"

Cue blood curdling scream and loud thump.

Germany pinched the bridge of his nose as the room, save for Italy, erupted into laughter.

"You know, I think it's time for them to come out of there," said Austria, rising to fetch them.

France readied him for the sight of beauty he was surely to be met with. The albino bathed in the warm afterglow of an astounding climax! Hair mussed and windswept from the heated passion; heavy breathing. Ah the after effects of _le amour_ were always so beautiful!

Hungary entered the room first, a smug smile plastered on her face. Not a hair was out of place on her head. France lightly mused over this before the true wonder walked in the room.

France's eyes widened in glee and bubble with excitement – he was coming in! He was bound to be beautiful and…not like _that_!

Bruises covered nearly every inch of Prussia's skin. Several wounds had been opened on his face and he wore a bloodied lip. Comic bumps rose on his head. Like a raccoon, dark circles blackened his eyes. The condom (size extra-small) hung from in between his two front teeth. How it had gotten stuck there was beyond anyone's comprehension.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?!" England inquired, unsure of whether to laugh or tend to his wounds.

Prussia acknowledged no one until he plopped down onto a solitary recliner on the opposite end of the room as Hungary. "A witch's frying pan! That's what happened!" He yelled bitterly – the condom flying around with the breath released as he talked.

France frowned at the sight. Total boner killer.

"Okay whoa, I'm lost," said America. "So let me get this straight…oh by the way, nice condom Prussia!"

"You're totally un-awesome!" Prussia bit sourly at America. It was the best insult he could muster at a time like that. His pride and dignity were long gone.

"Hahahah!" America laughed. "Okay so, we all thought you guys were having sex in there!"

Hungary seemed shocked by this news. "What? Me have sex with Prussia? Absolutely not!"

England then piped up, "So when you said 'allow me to do whatever I want to you'…you actually meant…"

The room's eyes widened in realization; giggles erupted once more. What they thought had been sex had actually been Hungary releasing a can of whoop ass with her frying pan.

Austria smugly smiled at the sight of the stewing Prussian. Serves him right for insulting his symphonies.

"Prussia you gonna get that condom out of your teeth? It's your turn to ask a truth or dare," inquired America.

Prussia shot America a death glare, promising to murder him in his sleep. "It's stuck," he admitted. Hungary openly laughed as Germany shook his head and sighed. "Ugh, fine. Is Canada here?" He glanced around the room.

"Over here!" A hand excitedly shot up – everyone seemed shocked by the decibel reached by the usually soft-spoken male.

"Truth or - " however, the man with the condom in his mouth never got to finish his sentence, for at that moment a slightly feminine Finnish man stormed through America's front door. The countries littering the floor immediately created a pathway for the fuming man.

People often mistook Sweden as the terrifying one in the family; however, they had never been faced with Finland in Mamma Mode. "Sealand!"

Canada immediately…no, that wasn't Canada. That was Sealand! "Darnit!" The micronation in disguise muttered. He might've finally been recognized as a country had his parents not intruded.

Finland stood with his hands on his hips expectantly. Rage filled his normally gleeful eyes – enough to scare even America (he was home of the _brave_!). In fact, said American had taken to hiding behind the couch in fear.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?!" Finland demanded.

Sweden stood in the doorway, emotion void of his face. He had merely tagged along for Finland's sake (God have mercy on his soul if Finland found out that it was he who had allowed this).

Sealand disguised as Canada shrunk into his chair. "I just wanted to be recognized as a country!"

Finland brought a hand to his forehead and muttered, "Not this again."

"I thought it was alright! Dad said it was okay! He even sueded my hair!" Sealand confessed.

Realization sunk into Finland's eyes. Slowly he turned around and shot Sweden a glare that assured him he wouldn't be getting some for _quite _a while.

"J'st w'nt'd t' m'ke 'im 'appy," Sweden muttered.

All the other nations slowly realized the trauma the young nation had been exposed to. Oh his poor virginal eyes.

"We're going," Finland said with finality, daring someone to tell him otherwise. "Oh," he said, his expression softening as he glanced around the room. His signature smile came onto his face once more. "So sorry we couldn't attend the meeting! Christmas is growing closer after all!" Finland apologized, then without a second thought he latched onto his adoptive son's ear and drug him out the door, muttering disciplines of no video games or television all the while.

Without a word Sweden turned and followed his wife out the door. There was a slightly visible hesitation to his step. He knew that he was in for it once he arrived home. He wouldn't be getting any for at _least _a month.

"_Monsieurs_, let us have a moment of silence for our fallen man," France said emotionally, lowering his head. No one followed suit. Looks like Sweden was going to have a serious case of blue balls.

Prussia sighed and clutched his head, moaning slightly at the constant throb. "Ugh…that means I have to find someone else, doesn't it?"

"Yup!" America confirmed.

"Ugh, fine." Prussia scanned the room before landing upon the perfect target. It was time to extract revenge. "Austria, truth or dare?"

The aristocrat's eyebrows furrowed in deep contemplation. Whatever he chose would be retribution for what Hungary had done to Prussia. If he couldn't save his pride, the least he could do was save his physical state. "Truth."

"Pussy," Prussia muttered, "fine. Is it true that you and Switzy's rivalry is actually sexual frustration?"

Austria's glasses nearly fell off his face; for the slightest moment, the pompous man lost a bit of his dignity. Hungary squealed in delight – the gleam of a thousand suns appearing in her eyes. France raised his eyebrows in interest – this was news to him!

All eyes turned toward Switzerland and Austria, who were sitting on the opposite ends of the same couch.

Austria's cheeks flushed and he straightened his back in an attempt to regain some dignity. "Erm..i-I uh…" Austria cleared his throat in attempt to stable his voice. As he was about to deny Prussia's claim, Switzerland interrupted.

"IF YOU ANSWER THAT I WILL KILL YOU UNTIL YOU ARE DEAD!" The Swiss exploded. Internally he was thanking every deity to ever exist that Liechtenstein was not there to witness this. She had fallen ill the day before and sent a diplomat in her place, who had promptly returned once politics were discussed.

The room became silent. Hungary bore a hopeful look in her eyes.

Austria cleared his throat once more. "I was going to deny his claim, actually."

Switzerland slumped into the couch, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. Austria brazenly took the glares, but the chagrin was visible in his cheeks. "Good," Switzerland grumbled.

"Excuse me gentlemen," said Japan, "but I believe that what you two are experiencing is called 'denial'."

"Yeah dudes it's not just a river in Egypt!" America piped in. England buried his face in his hands. Alfred just _had_ to go there, didn't he?

Hungary's eyes shimmered in delight, a squeal bubbling in her throat, and she could no longer hide the truth. "They've had sex!"

Dignity be damned! Austria spit the quantity of the he was drinking onto the floor. Switzerland's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

France let slip a plethora of "on hon hon!"s.

Prussia smiled triumphantly. He had expected some sort of reveal, but certainly not to _that _extent!

"H-Hungary!" Austria cried in disbelief.

The fact that she was a girl made no different to Switzerland in that moment. He pulled a pistol out of his back pocket and aimed it for the Hungarian. "I will kill you until you are dead!" He threatened.

With reflexes besting a tiger, Hungary was across the room, frying pan in hand and ready to cause the apocalypse. "Put the gun away Switzerland," she said dangerously low. She saw the malice in his eyes gain a new light – a hint of fear.

"Dude," Prussia said, a serious tone prevalent in his voice for the first time anyone could remember, "just put the gun down. It's not worth the pan. _Nothing_ is worth the pan!"

Switzerland's resolve wavered and he slunk back to the couch. "It's only because Liechtenstein likes you so much," he grumbled.

"Excuse me Mr. Austria," Japan asked politely, brandishing a pen and paper, "but would you care to give me a detailed description of your coital encounter with Mr. Switzerland?"

"W-What? No!" Protested Austria. Japan's face slunk slightly, but Hungary whispered promises of details later into his ear. The Japanese man immediately regained his composure and returned to a snoozing Greece.

"Oh _monsieurs_, you cannot simply confess to the throws of _le amour_ and not present details!" France said.

"Oh yes we can!" Bit Switzerland.

Austria sighed, looking at the other man. They would never be left alone about this until they provided _something_ for the others. "It was one time, ten years ago. We were in an argument and things progressed from there, that is _all,_" Austria said with finality. Switzerland glanced at him warily at the part about 'once'. Austria returned the glare. A little white lie would hurt no one.

"Angry sex, it is truly a wonderful thing. Ridding all of your tension and hatred and turning them into wonderful pleasure and love! Ah how I miss it," sighed France.

After a few more rounds, Lithuania sat embarrassedly beside Poland, brandishing one of his pink dresses. Everyone had to admit he definitely had the legs.

Greece had risen and was given what Prussia called a 'pussy dare' by Lithuania to lick Japan's ear. Japan seemed to have no qualms with it, however.

Switzerland had had to dip his tongue into Austria's navel (courtesy of France on that one.) Hungary had taken many candid shots of that position.

Italy confessed that the strangest place he and Germany had ever had sex was in England's hot tub. This was news to England. This was apparently news to Germany, also.

Spain and Romano had returned. Spain radiated bliss – the widest of smiles stretched across his face. Romano, however, was an utter mess. He too had the afterglow of sex, but it was obvious he cared nothing of his appearance. His clothes were twisted in odd ways, he hadn't even bothered to tuck in his shirt, and his hair was mussed from the activities. In some places it practically stood straight up. No way in hell was he going to attempt to brush it and risk accidentally stimulating the curl!

Romano briefly glanced around the room, addressed everyone as bastards, and plopped on the couch to stew against Spain's side.

"What happened to Potato Bastard number two?" Romano asked after a moment's silence.

"NEVER TALK ABOUT IT!" Prussia cried, crossing his arms. The condom didn't appear to be coming out of his teeth any time soon. Hungary snickered slightly.

"Yo, you're back Spain! You get to finally ask the truth or dare!" America exclaimed.

"Oh, it is me isn't it? Hmm…Germany, truth or dare?" Spain asked.

After hearing some of the truth's being asked, he thought it best to wound his physical self over his pride. "I suppose…dare," he said grudgingly.

Spain smiled in excitement. "Keep in mind that this is all hypothetical, but you and the little Veneziano are like a ripe tomato when you are together! Would you, hypothetically, propose marriage to Italy, _por favor_?"

"WHAT THE FUCK TOMATO BASTARD?!" Romano exploded.

"Ve~?" Italy said in confusion, he was on the verge of a siesta and had missed what was transpiring. A shift in Germany's weight had risen him.

"D-Do you really mean that?" Germany asked hesitantly.

"Why of course, just remember what I said!" Spain said brightly.

Well, this was hypothetical of course. Germany supposed this was better than other dares he might have come across.

Germany harrumphed before lightly speaking. "Italy, will you-"

"HELL NO POTATO BASTARD! IF YOU'RE DOING THIS TO MY FRATELLO THEN YOU'LL DO IT RIGHT! GET DOWN ON ONE DAMN KNEE AND CONFESS!" Romano exploded. As much as he hated potato bastard number one, his brother was getting a decent proposal (despite the fact it's all hypothetical)

"Romano, this is only - "

"I DON'T CARE!"

Germany sighed. He glanced down at the Italian snuggled into his side. For the first time in a while, Italy's eyes were open, and Germany soon found himself swimming in pools of amber. Overcome with emotion, he clasped Italy's hands in his and lowered off the couch to one knee.

"Ve~?" Italy cocked his head to the side.

_This is only hypothetical_, Germany reminded himself. But why did it feel so real? He had to continue with the dare. Locking his gaze with Italy, the world seemed to fade around him. It was only he and his love. "Italy, we have known each other for a long time, since the beginning of World War One. From the first time that I met you, I knew you were special. The way you jumped out of the box of tomatoes is something I'll never forget," Germany smiled in memory. "We've gone through challenges, been ripped apart through war, and in the end, Italy, you've not only become my ally, but you've become my first real friend. No, not even that, you've become my first real _love_, and I know that no matter how long I live I'll always love you as much as I did the day that you popped out of the box as the tomato fairy. I guess what I'm trying to say is, Italy, I love you. I love you so much I don't know which direction I'm going in sometimes. I love everything about you; your pasta, your art, your beautiful view of the world. So…well…_Ich liebe dich_, Italy. Will you marry me?"

The room was filled with the emotion the stoic German conveyed. Hypothetical be damned, that was the largest love confession any of them had ever heard. Hungary's eyes swam with tears, as did Prussia's (though to this day he'll deny it).

Italy, who heard nothing of the proposal being hypothetical, was overcome with emotion. A grin spread across his face and tears of joy began to pool in his amber eyes. "Yes!" Italy cried, launching off the couch and onto Germany.

The two fell onto the floor, but neither cared. Italy chastely kissed Germany, expressing all the joy and love he felt for the other man. "_Ti amo, _Ludwig. _Si!_"

As it turned out, Germany had forgotten the marriage proposal was a dare three sentences in. The emotion was raw and undiluted – every word that passed his lips was truth. He loved the Italian and, until that moment, hadn't realized actually how much he wanted to be bonded to him forever.

"Wait…what?" Said Spain dumbfound.

"Oh this will be perfect!" Exclaimed Italy. "Fratello will be my best man and there will be flowers and lots and lots of pasta!"

Germany sat on the ground dumbfound, cradling Italy to his chest. "Erm…all of you are invited," said Germany, shocked. Well that was a twist of events. Go into a world meeting expecting to discuss economical issues, leave engaged.

Hungary ran forward and engulfed the two in a bear hug, demanding she be a bridesmaid. Or groomsmaid. They'd work out the details later.

"Wait…was that for real?" Asked America.

"I suppose it was," answered England.

America's eyes widened. "Congrats dudes! You're gonna have a kickass wedding!"

"THE FUCKING FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!" Romano screamed.

"Thanks to your suggestion, you're going to have a brother in law," answered Spain.

Romano looked ready to rampage and ruin the happy moment with big-brother syndrome, however, sensing this, Spain promptly sat on him. Romano wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Cool story bros, but there's time to celebrate later! We gotta finish the game!" America exclaimed, ruining the mood.

"Just ask mine for me, America," said Germany, who was in no mood to continue in such childish antics. He had a fiancé to cherish.

"Sweet dude! Thanks!" America looked as if he had won the lottery. "Alrighty…England! It's your turn!"

England groaned with dignity, however that was possible.

"Excuse me, _monsieur_ America, may I make a suggestion?" Inquired France.

"Sure dude!" America leaned in as France whispered something in his ear. "Dude would you really do that?" He asked, shocked.

"But of course!" Assured France.

"What's the bloody git saying?" Asked England.

"Okay dude, you don't get a choice. You're doing a dare. No objections."

"But-"

"NO OBJECTIONS!"

England looked ready to pounce.

"Alright dude, your dare is to suck France off!"

…"WHAT?!"

France perked comically up at this. "Hon hon! Does _monsieur _mean it? I won't say no, of course," he said.

"Oh yeah, I totally mean it!"

"What the bloody hell, America! I'm not sucking off that git! What are you thinking? What about us?" England began to sound desperate at the end.

"England, I love you, but I _reeeeaaaly_ love Big Mac's!" America confessed.

Realization sunk into England's eyes. "You bribed him with fast food?!"

"Why, of course!" Assured France.

"Dude, it's a dare, you gotta do it!" America whined.

"No I bloody don't! I choose whatever I do!" England said.

"If you don't do it then you gotta take a penalty," warned America.

England sighed. _Anything _had to be better than sucking off _France _of all people! "Fine, what's the penalty?"

France whispered something in America's ear once more. "You mean it?! Fries too?! Alright buddy you're talking my language now! You're penalty is that you have to have full on sex with France. Blow job or sex, take your pick."

Japan was once again adorning a steady stream of blood, and Hungary had her camera at the ready. All countries were watching intently, interested in how this could possibly transpire.

England's face ran from light pink to, as Spain would describe, red as a ripe tomato. "You insolent _git_!" He screamed and lunged for America.

England had America pinned under him, no chance of escape. America thrashed wildly. "Change the dare, idiot!" England demanded.

"No, I want my value meal!" America whined. At that moment England knocked off Texas and firmly yanked on his ahoge.

"Dude you're going to rip off Nantucket!"

England growled, "If you don't change the dare I'll rip off _Florida_!"

* * *

**I dare you to review! **


End file.
